


Rockin' the Casbah

by TheResurrectionist



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Fluff and Crack, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Rumors, THE AUTHOR NEEDS SLEEP, World's Finest, blatant misuse of furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:36:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheResurrectionist/pseuds/TheResurrectionist
Summary: Someone starts a rumor about a certain pair of founders and a certain piece of League furniture. Title from a song byThe Clash.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, my mind got away from me, and I ended up writing crack. For those of you waiting on The Last of Us--don't worry, I'll post more soon! 
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy! :)

It starts, as most inter-league rumors do, in the Teen Titans' lounge.

A scandalized Robin quickly shuts down any and all discussion, cheeks bright red. "I can tell you for _sure,_ that is _not_ true!

"Bullshit," Roy Harper says, grinning around a half-eaten apple. The rest of the group turn to him expectantly. "Raven told me last week. She talked to one of the janitors whose friend said-"

"See, it's already three people out," Robin protests, crossing his arms. Roy ignores him, continuing.

"-that she saw _you know who_ going at it on the-"

A hand descends from mid-air, slamming Harper's lips shut. M'gann frowns down at the archer, the room going silent.

"That's enough," the alien says, "We are _not_ talking about our mentors like _gossips_. Do you have any idea how important Superman and Batman are?"

Roy pulls away from her hand, rubbing his mouth. "Yeah, Robin's always letting us know, don't worry."

"Roy," is all Robin says, levelling him with a glare. The other Titans shrink a little at their leader's ire, the whispers dying down. "Stop talking."

"Fine," Roy throws his hands up, shrugging. "Don't shoot the messenger. I'm just repeating what I heard."

"That's the _problem_ ," M'gann says, trading a look with Robin. "It's obviously not true, so stop talking about it."

The remaining Titans nod along with this, going back to whatever they'd been doing. Roy wiggles an eyebrow at Robin, then walks off towards his quarters.

"Dick," M'gann says, her voice pitched so only he can hear. Robin is looking at the ground, scuffing his boot on the linoleum. "It's _not_ true, right?"

"Why do you even have to ask me that?" Robin protests, looking up. His right eye is twitching a little under the domino mask. "Of _course_ it's not true!"

"Right," M'gann says quickly, smiling at him. "Just a stupid rumor, huh?"

Robin nods jerkily, forcing a smile.

"Just a stupid rumor."

* * *

"So, I heard the strangest story today," Oliver says at the cafeteria table, getting a collective groan from all of the JL members present. "Hey-hey! What the hell? I haven't even _told_ you yet, and people are _leaving_?"

"No one wants to hear your stories," Dinah tells him with a roll of her eyes, tugging on his hood. "They've heard the same three a million times. I, frankly, don't blame them."

Cyborg and Shayera trade a _look,_ the Thanagarian halfway out of her seat. With a sigh, she settles back into the chair, getting a sympathetic pat from Stone as Green Arrow eyes them hungrily.

"Flash," Oliver says loudly, startling the speedster across the cafeteria. He waves a hand. "You wanna hear this, don't you? I heard the _craziest_ thing yesterday-"

Barry is already seated at their table, his breakfast spread out in front of them. A full plate of eggs, bacon, and toast rattles against the table. "Oh boy. What is it now? Wonder Woman pregnancy rumors again? Clones?"

"Stop encouraging him." Dinah scowls at the speedster, but Barry is unrepentant, shoveling eggs into his mouth faster than they can see.

"Spill, Arrow."

Oliver grins, so wide it makes Dinah groan in mock-terror. He looks like the cat who got the-ha ha ha. She's heard that one a million times by now.

"Why, thank you for asking, Barry. This is red-hot, everyone. Lean in, and listen up."

Everyone except Dinah lean in a little, eyeing Oliver with equal parts skepticism and hunger. "Someone in the Titans said that they talked to a very reliable source, who talked to a janitor from the night crew, whose friend saw our _very own_ World's Finest going at it on the League conference table last night."

Barry spits out coffee, spraying the table. Shayera puts a hand to her mouth, covering a gasp, while Cyborg just looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

Dinah kicks Oliver under the table.

"Not true," she says, raising an eyebrow, "Absolutely not. They're _friends,_ Oliver."

"What, you never got a bro-job back in college?" Oliver asks, immediately receiving a smack from his wife. "Ow! Or whatever you call them for girls. I'm not exactly sure-"

"Okay, so let's say it actually happened," Barry interrupts, turning to Cyborg. "Is there video footage? You know, _evidence_?"

Stone's human eye goes wide in horror. "Even if there was, you think I wanna _watch_ it?"

"No, I want you to compress it and send me an email attachment so I can sell it on Ebay," Oliver said, pointing his fork at the other man. "You have any idea how many porn sites have 'World's Finest' as a section these days?"

"No," Dinah says carefully, turning to her husband. Her eyes were sharp enough to cut steel. "But, suddenly, I want to know why _you_ know that, dear."

Everyone averts their gazes as Oliver chuckles nervously, avoiding the potential trap like a seasoned pro. "Background checks. I-uh, gotta make sure there's no security breaches."

"There's no way it's true," Shayera interjects, before Oliver's face can get any redder. "They're very good friends, but have you seen them do anything strange? Besides, Superman is practically in _love_ with that reporter. Lo-La-What's her name?"

"Lois Lane," Barry offers, chewing through his sausage at a mile a minute. "Actually, I heard she's dating some guy-owns the paper or something?"

"Richard White," Cyborg says, monotone. At their surprised looks, he shrugs. "I'm basically google, you guys. It's not that hard."

"Anyways," Oliver says, wiggling his eyebrows. "My source-"

"Who is a _child_ ," Dinah interrupts, "in case you've forgotten."

"-is a grown teeanger," Oliver says, crossing his arms. "And if he says this rumor's got sand, he's probably right. Those damn teenagers know everything."

"Except that it's totally outlandish and offensive," Dinah points out, getting a nod from Shayera. "If Batman hears you talking shit about him, you won't walk again."

"I'm not afraid of Batman," Oliver says proudly, stretching his arms wide. Dinah rolls her eyes, scooting away from his grabby hands. "What's he gonna do to me? Jump around a corner and scream ' _boo'_?"

"Personally," Barry says, his plate finally empty. He points at Oliver. "I'd be more scared of Big Blue, if you know what I mean."

" _Superman_?" Oliver lets out a chuckle, "Now I know you're pulling my leg."

"He did kick out Kyle Rayner for spreading that rumor about Diana," Shayera mused, putting a hand to her chin. "I remember hearing about that from Hal. Said Superman got real quiet, then started yelling like they'd never seen before."

"My ears are burning," a voice said from across the room. The table looked up to see Hal Jordan strutting over, a mug of coffee in one gloved hand. His hair was mussed, dark circles under his eyes. Nevertheless, his face lit up when he saw Oliver. "What's going on, folks?"

Dinah groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "You had to tell the biggest gossip around. You really had to do that, Ollie."

"I didn't tell him _yet_ ," Oliver says meekly, but his lips were twitching. Jordan sits without a word, waiting expectantly. "But _boy_ do I have news."

The Green Lantern sat his coffee down, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"Hit me."

* * *

"-so all of a sudden, the janitor walks in, and they're just," Jordan pantomimes something with his hips, getting shocked laughter from his small audience. "So she backs out, 'cause, you know, she just can't believe it-"

As soon as Diana makes her way over to the crowd, Jordan's story dies down. Within the audience, J'onn looks confused, Aquaman looks enthralled, and John Stewart has a small smirk on his face, like he's just been told a vaguely funny joke.

"No, go on," she urges, settling next to Stewart. The other senior members looked up, caught between surprise and confusion. "What was this about?"

"Our benevolent overlords, of course," Jordan quips, winking at her. "Just a little story on the grapevine. A certain piece of, hm, League furniture was christened last night. By a certain pair of superheroes, or so the story goes."

"Christened," Diana repeats, feeling her cheeks heat a little. So she'd heard that right earlier. "I'm familiar with the euphemism. But-the _conference_ table?"

A few members nod along with her, sharing her disdain. Jordan just smirks.

"Kinda hot, right? Them just going at it in between the League memos and-" The Green Lantern cuts off as someone throws a water bottle at his head, deflecting it with his ring. "Hey! Alright! You losers don't wanna have some material in the bank, then walk away-"

If Diana's cheeks were warm earlier, the scene forming in her mind makes them red hot. She crosses her legs in a way she hopes is subtle, getting a knowing look from Aquaman. "I'm sure it's just an overblown rumor."

"Have you _seen_ the way they look at each other?" Hal protests, still battling Stewart, little green army men leaping off his hand, getting blown to bits by an equally-tiny green tank from the other man's ring. "They're- _hey,_ not fair, Stewart-like freakin' teenagers. Always making moon eyes. If they fucked on the table, I say good riddance."

"Hal!" Diana says at his crude language, frowning. J'onn rises from his seat, cape swirling. "J'onn, I'm sure he-"

"No comment?" Jordan says to the fleeing alien, pumping a fist as one of his green men makes it into Stewart's tank, shooting the operator. "C'mon, you probably know the Bat's fucked-up mind the best. They did it, didn't they?"

"I must go," J'onn says, choked. He dematerializes before anyone can stop him, disappearing into the wall.

Diana feels her jaw loosen a little, shock pouring through her. _So maybe it was true-_

"Considering the number of times they've fought," Aquaman muses, looking at the wall with a strange level of concentration, "And all the _secret_ missions they go on together, I wouldn't be surprised. That's all I'm going to say."

"See, someone agrees with me!" Jordan cries, giving up and smashing Stewart's small artillery with a green hand the size of a dinner plate. "Come on, John, tell me I'm wrong."

Stewart sniffs, looking down at his decimated army. "It's hardly a rumor at this point. Do we even _have_ janitors?"

"That's not the _point_ and you know it!"

"I'm leaving," Diana says, standing. She eyes Jordan one last time, crossing her arms. "I better not hear about anymore of this."

"You sound worried, Princess," Jordan quips, smirking at her. "Worried that it's true?"

"Worried that Batman might hit you if he hears," she retorted. "He doesn't like rumors."

"Maybe he should stop having sex on the communal conference table then."

Stewart smacks Jordan on her behalf, then musses his hair for good measure. Diana leaves just as Jordan jumps on the other Green Lantern with an outraged roar, shaking her head as they toppled to the floor.

_Men._

* * *

Despite Diana's efforts, Hal and Oliver manage to convince more than half of the Justice League of their far-fetched story within the span of the afternoon. For two of the most laid-back and lazy superheroes, their ability to work together and stay focused is...surprising.

It isn't long before some of the junior members are sniffing around the conference room for "clues", examining every inch of the room. She locks it down for the afternoon, but they have a senior meeting later, and there isn't much she can do to derail that-and, of course, it's being led by Batman and Superman, because Zeus really does have it out for her.

 _Hera,_ she prays, after beating off another round of amateur detectives from the conference room hallway, _give me strength to get through this meeting. I work with an army of teenagers, it seems._

A small cough startles her from her prayers.

"Ah ah!" She cries, swinging her sword towards the shadow at the end of the hallway. "Back off! There is _nothing_ in the carpet fibres, for the _millionth_ time! _Nothing_!"

Clark appears before her, a concerned look on his face. She drops the sword quickly, feeling her cheeks burn. "Diana. Is everything...okay?"

For a traitorous second, she imagines him stretched out on the conference table, and smacks herself before that thought can go any further. Clark's eyes bug out a little as her hand connects with her face. "Diana?"

"I'm fine," she says, waving him off. "Just got something in my eye."

"Uh...huh…" Clark says, watching her with a dubious expression. "You, uh, ready for the meeting?"

"Oh, yeah," she says quickly, forcing a smile for her co-founder. "Absolutely."

* * *

On their way into the meeting, Jordan slips Oliver what's obviously a thick roll of cash. Dinah watches as the two men casually 'bump' into each other, frowning at her husband when he returns.

"I've never seen a whiter-looking drug deal in my life."

"Not a drug deal," Oliver grins, counting the money under his breath. When he's done, he grabs her hand and stuffs the cash away. "Shall we?"

"Do I even wanna know?"

"Probably not."

The conference room is buzzing with more talk than usual, everyone sending poorly-concealed looks at the table. Dinah finds herself examining it despite herself; it looks clean, no obvious stains or scratches or-fuck, now she's thinking like Ollie. _Get it together, Dinah._

Diana, to her left, looks a little constipated, eyeing the table uncertainly as she sits down. Cyborg is seated with his human eye closed, hands carefully not touching the surface. Aquaman is sniffing at the polished wood like he might be able to pick up a scent, eyes narrowing.

Clark is talking to J'onn up front by the main board, oblivious to the heightened tension in the room. The alien is nodding along with whatever he's saying, fists clenched at his sides.

"You, uh, hear that rumor going around?" Dinah asks Wonder Woman out of the corner of her mouth, unable to help herself. "About the-"

"Mhmm," Diana says, her right eye twitching a little. "I have."

"Some story, huh?"

The Amazon exhales loudly, cheeks turning pink. "I-"

The room's chatter falls silent as Batman enters. Almost every head immediately turns to Superman, who happens to be standing at the opposite end of the conference table. The two founders stare at each other in confusion, the moment stretching out.

"Can I help you?" Batman growls, and the heads duck, cowed by the combination of leather, kevlar, and the distinct aura of irritation. He snorts, looking at Superman after a quick pause. "Are we set up?"

A snicker breaks out from Ollie. Dinah kicks him under the table, but the damage is done.

Clark frowns at the outburst, briefly distracted. He nods at the Dark Knight. "I'm ready when you are."

This time, even she can't help herself. A snort escapes her, echoed by a quick chuckle from one of the Lanterns. Batman's gaze whips towards her direction, but she has no desire to die today, so she ducks her head and stays silent.

"Good," the vigilante says slowly, a not-so-subtle threat threading through his voice. He crosses the room slowly, his cape just kissing the edge of the conference table. "Let's begin."

* * *

The meeting is over a quickly as possible, which is a first. Batman glares at the League the entire time, per usual, so any subterfuge is carefully concealed by the now-infamous conference table.

Dinah is sure Hal and Oliver trade money at least twice during the meeting, but she can't be sure, and isn't convinced she wants to know what that's about, anyway. Diana rolls her eyes at random intervals, muttering under her breath in Greek for the duration of the presentation.

When all is said and done, the members file out, lingering in the hallway. Dinah catches herself peering through the glass, watching as Superman shuts down the computer, chatting with Batman-or as much as one can with the vigilante.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ollie whispers, Hal on his other side. Dinah sighs.

"At this point...probably."

"No way we're getting a repeat performance," Hal crows, head pressed to the glass. "What if it was a one-time thing? You know, hate sex, blowing off some steam-"

"Superhearing," Dinah warns, but Superman seems distracted, still cheerfully talking at Batman, so Jordan lives to breathe another day. "And they don't hate each other enough for hate sex."

"I bet it was hot as hell," Jordan breathes, ignoring her. Ollie nods along with this, pupils blown wide. "So fucking hot, you know?"

Dinah's breathing is a little rushed despite herself, the tips of her ears burning under her hair. "Stop talking like that."

"I bet it was Bats on bottom," Ollie says, ignoring her, continuing Hal's little horny fantasy like they're in a competition for most-porny sounding voice-overs. "I bet he likes to get fucked. I bet he's _loud_."

"You guys are hopeless," Dinah throws her hands up, backing away from the glass. "Don't call me when Batman rips your spines out. I told you so."

"Honey!" Oliver says, but his face is still pressed to the glass, eyes sharp, locked onto the conference table and the room's last two occupants. "Ugh. Whatever."

* * *

Clark stops mid sentence, frowning. His story about Lois' Tinder date mishap cuts off, forcing Batman to look up. "What is it?"

"Everyone's staring at us."

Sure enough, when he looks up, there's a decent-sized crowd milling around the conference room doors. A small amount avert their gazes when he makes eye contact, a brazen few refusing to look away. It wasn't hard to guess why they were staring.

"I _told_ you that janitor saw us," Bruce hissed under his breath, jabbing a finger at Clark. "I _told you_."

"So?" the Kryptonian replied quickly, backing up a little. "It's just some discredited eyewitness testimony. You know as well as I do that's swiss cheese when it comes down to it."

"Stop using farm metaphors in your arguments," Bruce growls under his breath. He snuck a glance over Clark's shoulder, tilting his head just a fraction. "You sound ridiculous."

"Says you."

He takes another step forward, backing Clark into the conference table. The taller man gives him a _look._ They stared at each other briefly, a silent conversation started and finished in a breath.

"I know what you're doing," Clark said quietly, hands pressed against the table. He can hear the thudding hearts outside the room speed up, a chorus of beats in his ear. "And I don't appreciate the payback."

"Not everything is about you!" Bruce says just a _little_ too loudly, schooling his features as he boxes Clark in. "Your ego is larger than this planet."

"Now that's just stupid," Clark says under his breath, shaking his head at his antics. "Back off," he says, loud enough that their audience can hear. "You're one to _start_."

"Am I? I don't think there's been a bigger fuck up in the history of this planet! What were you thinking?" Batman asks, taking another half-step forward, until they're practically in between each other's legs, a centimeter away from being indecent. He pitches his voice low, almost a whisper. "You're hard, aren't you?"

"What do you think?" Clark nearly shouts, glaring down at him, their fake argument nearly forgotten. He shifts a little against the table, trying to hide his crotch from the conference room doors. Bruce swears he can see his pupils dilate in just that second. "Last time we were like this-"

"You fucked me until I couldn't speak," Bruce whispered back, a savage grin spreading across his face. He tilts his head. "I remember."

Clark groans a little under his breath, his grip sending creaks through the hardwood of the table. "Don't tease me, I swear to god Bruce-"

"Swear to _me!_ " Bruce yells, just to be difficult and _extra_ , the melodramatic bastard he is. He sends Clark one last look and stalks towards the door, the crowd immediately parting, letting him exit.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, shame curling through his gut. He looks down at his pants, then at the door. _You're going to pay for that, Bruce._

* * *

"Maybe you were right," Ollie says when he returns to their quarters twenty minutes later. "Not that I want to get into a habit of saying that-"

He looks so deflated, so disappointed, that she almost feels bad. Almost.

"Let me guess," Dinah says, kicking her feet up on the bed. "They stared at each other, argued a little, and then _didn't_ jump each other's bones?"

"Yep, that was basically it."

"I told you it was just a rumor."

Ollie scrunches his nose up, pulling off his mask with a sigh. "I wanted it to be true, though."

"I'm...really not sure what I think about that."

* * *

"So, I'm, like, sorry for insulting your dad or whatever."

Robin looks up at Roy's apology, shrugging before he can stop himself. "It's not a big deal."

"Well, it wasn't true, so I guess it was still shitty for me to say it." Roy kicks something invisible across the floor, pursing his lips. "Green Arrow was pretty pissed. Said he had money riding on it."

Robin frowned, his eyes narrowing behind the domino mask. "Too bad."

"Yeah...too bad."

* * *

"-just like that-"

Patricia frowns, the sound of something creaking reaching her ears. She sets the wastebasket down, moving towards the conference room's entrance. Her cart stops behind her, the garbage nearly full. The empty Watchtower playing tricks on her again, it seemed-

"Oh, sweet Jesus!"

A very-athletic looking man has his legs up around the shoulders of an equally-impressive male, a familiar back and derriere burning into her retinas. The conference table is a mess of papers and broken pencils, and that's the only thing she can look at, because _good lord_ -

"Jesus fuck, Kal," the man on bottom swears, biting his lip. "Again? How do you not hear her a _second_ time?"

 _Kal_ stills above his romantic, er, partner, a vaguely-guilty looking expression on his face. He makes eye contact very briefly, bright red.

"Patricia-I am-I am _so_ sorry."

She holds her hands in front of her face, shutting her eyes tight. With a little finagling, she manages to walk backwards out of the room, face burning. Never again is she changing that silly trash can-the lovebirds can do it themselves.

"I _told_ you this was a bad idea," the first man says as she scrambles into the hallway. "Even the criminals in _Gotham_ know repeating the crime in the _same_ place is inconceivably stupid-"

"I don't see you complaining," _Kal_ replies, irritated, breath coming in short stutters that Patricia doesn't want to examine too closely. "We could have-mhm-stopped."

"Don't you _dare_." the first man huffs, moaning slightly under his breath. Patricia finishes gathering up her final bins and books it down the hallway as quickly as her feet will take her.

 _Superheroes,_ she thinks, shaking her head. _They must be pumping aphrodisiacs into the water up here or something._

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment, and let me know what you thought!


End file.
